


New York Steak

by its_a_pretty_interesting_wall



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bucky is almost a good a good bro but can't resist making fun of his friend, F/M, Implied Smut, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, One Night Stands, Steve literally borderline perfect in this and I regret nothing, the reader has a venom/eddie relationship with her own brain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 00:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17652734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_a_pretty_interesting_wall/pseuds/its_a_pretty_interesting_wall
Summary: Finish the drink, go home, order pizza, watch netflix. There’s a plan in motion, you reminded yourself, and we are not messing with it.“Hi! Sorry, is this seat taken? I don’t want to take up a whole table by myself.” And then he smiled. He smiled, and god! He had no right to do that! Sorry, I’m waiting for a friend. That’s it. That’s all you needed to tell him. But it was so hard.





	New York Steak

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [my wonderful friend Amanda's](https://stanclub.tumblr.com) 2.5k followers writing challenge on tumblr. Congratulations Amanda, and here’s to another 2.5k!!! Thank you so much for the prompt (in bold) I had a lot of fun writing this, and can only hope you all enjoy reading this :) you should also go have a look at her blog because she's amazing.

The last box had just been set on top of your new kitchen table  and while Natasha was unpacking another box in your bedroom you stared out the window. It wasn’t much of a view. It was only a 4th floor apartment and that’s not too much in a city like New York. Still, you could see the skyline partially through the gaps between the buildings. It was nice, like home. That’s why you returned after all, that and the job offer. A blessing is what it really was, D.C. was nice but being away from your friends and the one place on earth where you had actually been free to be yourself at all times was so much harder than you initially thought. But you were back. A new apartment, a new job, the people and the city you loved, you weren’t leaving again.

“Is this your idea of unpacking? Staring off into the distance,” Natasha said coming back from the bedroom.

“Oh shut up, it’s my apartment, I’m allowed to be lazy! Have you made my bed yet?” you asked her with a smile.

“The fucking nerve on you!,” she said staring you down with a shocked expression, “Who do you think I am? Clint? I made your bed 10 minutes ago, I’m offended you think it would take me this long.”

“I love you, did you know that?”

“Of course you do I’m amazing,” she told you with a wink, “but for the record,” she said pointing at you, “I only made your bed because we’re going to Shield tonight and I expect you to bring back some New York steak, I’ve had enough of you complaining about stuck up D.C. men.”

“Sure, because I’m definitely bringing a guy over to see this mess.”

“I never said guy,” she smirked, “a girl would probably do a better job  _and_ help you unpack in the morning.”

“Oh my god, you said New York steak. Why am I friends with you?”

“Because you love me, now please confirm that you’ve accepted you’ll be at Shield tonight by 9, waiting for me.”

“Fine,” you said with an eye roll, “my first day back and you’re already forcing me to socialize. I wanted to eat pizza and watch netflix in bed.”

“You can can do it all day tomorrow when you wake up hungover. 9 o’clock, I'll be waiting.”

**

 You got to Shield at 08:45 pm, immediately spotting the seats at the counter you and Natasha used to claim whenever you went there in college and choosing to sit there. And then you waited a few minutes absent mindedly scrolling through your phone waiting for her to show up. Until it buzzed.

 

  


 

Well you were there, even if she wasn’t coming, so you asked the bartender for a drink, it was a waste to finally be back in New York and in your favourite bar and not even have a drink. So yeah, one drink, and then you’d go home, order pizza and watch netflix.

The place had really filled up while you were distracted texting Nat. There were a few empty tables, but only one more seat by the bar, right next to yours. Probably because you draped your coat over it when you arrived. Oh well! No annoying people trying to flirt with you, this was clearly a winning situation.

A gentle tap on your shoulder and two whole sips! That’s how long it took for someone to ask about the empty chair, currently moonlighting as a coat hanger.  _Sorry, I’m waiting for a friend._ Yeah. That sounded natural enough, so you turned around, completely unprepared for the man stood behind said chair.  _Steak_ , a voice in your head that sounded suspiciously like one Natasha Romanoff said,  _a fucking juicy steak._ No. Finish the drink, go home, order pizza, watch netflix.  _There’s a plan in motion_ , you reminded yourself, _and we are not messing with it._

“Hi! Sorry, is this seat taken? I don’t want to take up a whole table by myself.” And then he smiled. He smiled, and god! He had no right to do that!  _Sorry, I’m waiting for a friend._  That’s it. That’s all you needed to tell him. But it was so hard. He was just stood there, with perfect teeth and a smile that had lit up the bar, and his eyes that you couldn’t decide were blue or green. Maybe both, he looked like the type of guy who would have blue and green eyes, he looked like the type of guy that made every imperfection perfect. You could bet your first salary he’d taken girls home because of his crooked nose alone.

He was looking at you like he expected something. Which he did, because he asked you a question, but yeah you were too lost on the melodic sound of his deep voice, and for a single second, you even allowed yourself to imagine how good it would be to have him whisper in your ear.  _Sorry, I’m waiting for a friend_ , you told yourself,  _drink, home, pizza, netflix. Just stick to the plan._

“No, I was keeping it for a friend but she canceled last minute,” well that’s great. Just great. It was fine though, you could still make it work,  _Just don’t talk to him_ , yeah that’s easy enough.

“Can I take it?” He asked.  _Fuck me, I wish you would just stop smiling._

 Yeah.”

 “Is this your coat?” you nodded, clearly there wasn’t much you could do in this situation, your brain was not in control of anything happening while he stood there, “Maria?” he called leaning over the counter.

 “Hey Steve!” the woman on the other side said cheerily, “a place for your coat?” she said waiting for him to nod, “I expect you know your way to the back by now.”

 “Can I take yours?” He asked. Take it where, you wanted to ask. Yes, because as a good as Steve looked that was an expensive coat. It was a good coat. It was a warm coat, and oh god! His name was Steve. Of course that was his name, he looked like a Steve. All tall, blonde and gorgeous, definitely a Steve.

 “Yeah,” and okay. That was so not what you were supposed to have said. _I give up on you,_ you told yourself exasperated,  _drink, home, pizza, netflix. It’s really not that hard._

 He smiled. That gorgeous idiot smiled and started taking his coat off, and no. No. Steve needed to stop, because it was easy enough to imagine his shoulders were only that wide because his coat was making them look that wide. But the coat was off, and Steve was still deliciously broad shouldered, and then you foolishly looked down his torso and his waist was just unreal. Steve could envelop your whole body in what you assumed would be an amazing hug and you would have absolutely no issues putting your own arms around him. Because Steve was apparently perfection personified,  _Sorry, I’m waiting for a friend_ , and this all could have been avoided.

 “Would you mind me taking it to the back room? It’s safer than the hooks by the door, and I know the owners, I know it will be a safe place.”

 “Yeah that’s fine,” and thank god for the crappy lighting of the bar, thank god the drink in your hand because Steve would either not see how flustered you were, or he would think it was the alcohol.

  _Okay, new plan, we’ll be nice to Steve, because Steve is nice, and then leave in a while and carry on with the plan, we can still make this-_

 Work? No, you couldn’t make it work at all, because Steve bent down to grab your coat, and walked towards the room he was putting the coats in, and that was when you saw it. Why were you surprised? Literally everything about this man implied that he was nothing short of perfect, and yet, when he turned around and you saw his ass it still hit you with strength of paramount proportions that it was perfect.

Make no mistake, this man was perfection on legs in almost every way, but his ass. You wanted to bite it, see the redish marks of your teeth in it. And squeeze it. Squeeze it so hard that your nails left little dents on it, that you could trace while you both laid in bed. Part of you wanted to spank it a little, it looked solid, it was only natural you wanted to see how much it would bounce, if at all. Maybe, just maybe you wanted to have Steve on top of you and push on it with your heels, so he’d go deeper, and deeper inside you.  _I really wish you’d try thinking with your brain every once in a while._

 This was your first night back in New York. You were definitely not talking a stranger home already. Right?

**

Two hours and four drinks,  _two of which he got for free because he knows the owners,_ later and it turned out Steve was an artist who taught an art class for at risk kids on the weekends, he volunteered at VA and helped train service dogs. His mother was a nurse so he wound up volunteering in the hospital too. Because of course he did. Because every piece of his outside was so ridiculously perfect that of course his inside had to match.  _Drink, home, pizza, netflix,_ your brain called out in vain.

 Steve was lying. He had to be. Realistically no one has time for that much volunteering and still manages to keep a steady job, he had to be lying. But then he had pictures of himself and kids covered in paint blotches, and a dog in a vest licking his face,  _and I bet you never thought you’d be jealous of a dog._ There was one of him and a friend serving food to homeless people, and one of him hugging a short blonde woman in scrubs in what looked like a hospital.  _Let’s be honest, why would he go through all this trouble just to have sex? His face is enough for that, hell his ass! Steve doesn’t need a million adorable photos of himself being a good wholesome person and yet he has them._ And whoa brain, whose side were you on?

 Still the question remained, what did Steve do for a living?

 “Oh I work at the marketing division at Stark Industries! It’s a really great job, Tony doesn’t tie us down with too many hours and I get to be creative and just draw and sketch like a maniac, it’s amazing, I love it. It leaves me with a lot of free time though so that’s why I started volunteering.”

  _It makes sense you know,_ and yeah the battle to keep your brain on your side was well and truly lost.

 So it was no surprise when a while later his hand started playfully running up and down your arm _. I wish he would just touch us somewhere else,_ your brain practically screamed at you. Not too long after that your chairs were magically closer together and he was practically whispering in your ear instead of talking from where he was sat. It didn’t take long for him to start leaving heated kisses on your skin. Along the line of your jaw, some behind the shell of your ear, and then with no preamble he nipped at your earlobe, and  _yeah we are so done, steak indeed._

 “Do you want to get out of here?” he asked you in a whisper.

 “Steve,” and he sat up straight, a smirk on his face and his eyes devouring every inch of you,  _yes, just say yes, yes,_ “uh,  **I never, ever do this but I’ll make an exception for your butt**.”

 He laughed, and god what beautiful sound that was, “That good, uh?”

 “The best I’ve ever seen,” you told him with a smirk.

 From then on everything about the night was frantic and blurry. And if Steve looked good with his clothes on, well, someone really ought to make a statue of him naked. Especially if that statue would include the detail of his sculpted abs, and his ass. It looked even better, _I bet you didn’t think that could happen_ , when he was naked. Your hands had gravitated towards it almost immediately, and you would definitely be impressed if Steve could sit without wincing the following day because that bit mark you had left bruised, not to mention the five little half moon marks your nails had left in each cheek.

 Yeah, Steve had been the right person to break in your new mattress. That was only confirmed when you woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee, eggs and toast, _buying food yesterday was a great idea if it means we get to watch Hercules cook in his boxers._ And it’s not like you had too much on either so clearly you both took that as an opportunity to break in the kitchen table too.

**

“Just call him.”

“Natasha no.”

“He gave you his number.”

 “Yeah and the sex was a amazing, but-”

 “Really?” she rolled her eyes, “I couldn’t tell, it’s not like you’ve been speaking about it for 6 straight days.”

 “But he could be lying. He was ridiculously perfect, Nat. If it sounds too good to be true it probably is.”

 “Or maybe he’s just a nice guy. And where else are you going to find a steak like that?”

 “Shut up. Why are we talking about my Steak anyway? We should be speaking about your Bucky and how I’m to meet him tomorrow”

 “Oh so he’s your steak now?”

 “Shut up.”

**

The following day you and Natasha walked into the same coffee shop she had met Bucky in and waited for him and his best friend to show up. She was nervous, because apparently they had been friends since ever so getting his friend’s approval was important. Still a nervous Natasha was not something that happened often, this guy had to be really important to her.

You certainly had never seen her face light up the way it did when he walked in. Your back was to the door but that only meant you could see her smile grow, the tension leaving her body. She looked happy, even more so when he got to the table and pulled her into his arms. And then they kissed, her hands resting on his waist and his cradling her face. It was tender, slow like they didn’t care everyone could be staring at them, you certainly were. When they broke apart  he stroked her cheek lightly with his thumb, the smiles on their faces never faltering, until someone cleared their throat from behind the table.

“Seriously Bucky I was late by a maybe a minute and I have to walk in and find you putting on a show for the entire place.”

 _Oh no. No. No. That voice._ You knew that voice. That voice whispered filthy things in your ear a week ago. That voice was attached to a perfect specimen that you had been trying to forget for a week. No. That was not Steve. Steve couldn’t be Natasha’s boyfriend’s best friend. No.

“Shut up, Steve,” and he never even took his eyes off Natasha. Everything was still tender and sweet between them. But Steve,  _because fuck it is Steve,_ was stood behind you and how were supposed deal with this? Should you admit you slept together? Ignore him?

“Y/N this is Bucky,” Natasha shifting her gaze to you, “he’s my boyfriend. Bucky this is Y/N, she’s my best friend and you’re lucky to meet her because she literally moved back to New York a week ago.”

And then Bucky introduced Steve to Natasha. And Steve sat down and there was no way he didn’t recognize you. It was as if you both decided that pretending not to know each other was the right choice because when the only natural flow for the conversation to continue was for you and Steve to introduce yourselves to each other you both acted as if that was the first time you met. This was about your best friends being happy after all, not the two of you.

The day was weird. You were delighted by the sweet stories Bucky and Natasha were telling you but it was incredibly distracting to have Steve sat across the table from you. You knew what he looked like naked. What he sounded like in bed. He was the best sex of your life. Sat across the table,  _and we can’t even have sex on this table_ , your brain annoyingly reminded you.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on between the two of you?” Bucky said, more confused than upset, and Natasha looked towards you and Steve too, her eyebrow raised. Yeah this was probably why they were together, stupidly beautiful, incredibly smart, and they both looked like soft little kittens but could probably tear you apart if they needed to.

Your first instinct was to play dumb, but no one could lie to Natasha Romanoff, so instead you looked her in the eyes and said “Steak.”

She looked confused as did Bucky and you didn’t even want to look at Steve’s face, with the blush that had already creeped up your cheeks, “Steve is steak,” you told her.

“Steve?” she asked incredulously only to erupt in a fit of laughter seconds later.

“Nat?,” Bucky asked, “want to explain?”

 “They slept together, the night we went on a date,” she told him.

 Bucky’s eyes widened and the two of them started going on, and on, about how Steve hadn’t shut up about you for a week, and how you hadn’t shut up about Steve. Very private things were disclosed. You really regretted telling Natasha that biting Steve’s ass had been one of the best experiences of your life.

By the time they were done you and Steve were blushing, not meeting each other’s eyes fearing it would be awkward.

 “Why did you say Steak?” Steve asked confused.

 “Well it’s what we’ve been calling you,” he still looked confused and Bucky’s brow was furrowed so you figured more explanation was needed, “Natasha said I needed some New York Steak because I kept complaining about D.C. guys so when we spoke about you we called you Steak.”

 “Oh no that’s just wrong,” Bucky said shaking his head, “I am offended on your behalf Steve. How dare you call him a New York Steak when he’s clearly a Brooklyn Beefcake?” Oh yeah, they’d be together forever.

 Steve however rolled his eyes at his friend, “I thought you had my back, Bucky.”

 “I would,” he said pointing at you, “but she seems to want to have it.”

 When Natasha finally stopped laughing at Bucky’s joke and your again flushed cheeks she asked, “Is this going to be awkward between the two of you?”

 “No,” Steve said quickly with a smirk and a mischievous glow in his eyes, “Y/N will just have to keep on making exceptions for my butt.”

**Author's Note:**

> I made a moodboard Chris Evans' ass to along with this fic so head over to tumblr if that's something you'd like to see.  
> Feel free to drop by [my writing blog](https://the-hell-i-cant-im-a-captain.tumblr.com) where you'll find rebloggable versions of all my fics, and by [my main blog](https://its-a-pretty-interesting-wall.tumblr.com) where I post about Marvel and how perfect I find Chris Evans, mostly.


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